


blue rose

by ninetyplanets



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, i hate tagging sex!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 19:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20457962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetyplanets/pseuds/ninetyplanets
Summary: a story about Dimitri and Byleth's budding relationship throughout the entirety of the war.





	1. pre timeskip

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't wanna rewrite any plot points that happen ingame bc i know that shit gets boring to reread so everything that happens or is talked about in the game also happens here...well have fun yall

Whenever anyone asked why he chose to teach the Blue Lions house, Byleth would instinctively give some sort of half-hearted reply. "Blue is a nice color," he would say, transfixed on watching Dimitri's eyes crinkle when he laughed at a bad pun Ashe made. Something like, "they're all good kids," said in ernest, as Dimitri offers a hand to help the poor Annette that tripped over a chair leg.

They weren't lies. He does like blue, and they are good--no, definitely excellent kids. There was something about Dimitri in particular that struck unusual intrigue in Byleth, however; not that he'd ever say that's the reason why he chose Blue Lions. Showing favoritism is not professional for a teacher. He didn't want to make the other students feel less important if he showed his budding interest in their house leader.

Maybe it would be wise to stop staring at the boy so much, then.

He wouldn't call it a crush. Byleth, in truth, has never had a crush in his life, and wouldn't even realize it if he formed feelings like that, let alone if he was even _capable_ of it. Everything about Dimitri was just different, new, thrilling--it made the mercenary instincts inside of him excited. This boy was nothing like anyone he'd ever met. ...Although, in retrospect, Byleth really hasn't met too many people in his life.

Dimitri offering to help Byleth with the curriculum was one thing that sparked even more interest.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Byleth admits. 

It earns a chuckle from Dimitri, who quickly covers his mouth to hide the action, deeming it inappropriate to laugh at his superior. "Anyone could hardly blame you. This position was thrust upon you so suddenly. I'm sure my fellow classmates understand how you're feeling." There's a slight hesitance before he continues his thought. "Do you... Would you like some assistance?"

Byleth looks up from his desk, tilting his head.

The action makes Dimitri weary. "Am I being overly presumptuous? I'm sor--"

"I understand the source material well enough," Byleth interjects, "but the teaching part is new to me. I know everything I'm supposed to be teaching, but I don't know how to..." Vague hand motions. "How to...articulate it."

He hadn't noticed that Dimitri strided over to his side while he was staring down at his notes. Their shoulders bump together, and a strong scent of chamomile fills Byleth's senses.

"If it were up to me, I'd just throw you guys on the battlefield every day so you learn real combat," Byleth says. "But that's careless of me. Seteth scolded me for sending you guys to fight bandits three days in a row..."

It makes Dimitri chuckle again. Byleth isn't sure what he keeps saying that's so funny to him.

"I suppose I understand where Seteth is coming from." Dimitri sorts through Byleth's disarray of notes, quickly coming to realize that his professor's handwriting is completely illegible. "If we are constantly on the battlefield, it tires us out. When we're so exhausted we can't move, it puts us in a dangerous situation."

Byleth contemplates that. The thought had never even crossed his mind, and now he feels something akin to guilt when he remembers Mercedes trying not to fall asleep while she stood in line at the dining hall.

When Byleth doesn't respond, Dimitri chimes in once again. He points at a sheet of notes that took him a moment to decipher. "Here, this is a good start. Basic instructions such as how to wield a weapon, how to swing it, thrust it, or throw it. How to read your enemies movements and predict their next move. You could give us quizzes on scenarios such as this. 'Your opponent is wielding an axe, and you are wielding a spear. The enemy charges at you: How do you respond?' And then give us a set of different answers to choose from..."

Byleth stares blankly at him.

Dimitri flusters. "...Oh, gods, I'm so sorry, Professor. I kept talking out of line, didn't I? I wasn't-- My intention was not to make you sound incompetent, I..."

"You're really smart," Byleth praises. "Can you help me with this section? I don't have an inkling on how to instruct you guys on this."

Dimitri beams at his professor.

-

It takes a few rough months before Byleth starts feeling more relaxed with his new life and position. He was so used to being carefree and doing whatever he wished; responsibilities, let alone the lives of others, have never been something to worry about for him. It's always just been him and Jeralt, making ends meet with mercenary work, concentrating on no one but each other and themselves.

Sylvain is a flirt, but headstrong and caring. Felix is an asshole, but he means well and has a good heart. Mercedes might be the sweetest yet scariest person he's ever met. Ashe is completely honest and admirable in every sense. Dedue is silent, strong, and dependable. Annette, though clumsy, tries her best and always means well. Ingrid is down to earth and isn't afraid to speak her mind. Dimitri is...

The voice in his head keeps talking to him now. Much more frequently. She has a comment on everything.

"Are you going to send the children off to spill more blood today?" Sothis asks him. "Or perhaps have a day of normalcy and go fishing? The flowers in the garden must be blooming by now... Oh, and those turnips you are growing..."

Byleth can't hear himself think half the time. Perhaps he doesn't even think anymore, and all the thoughts he has immediately get sent to the Sothis part of his brain, where she reads them and gives him her insight on the matter.

"I don't have any bait," Byleth responds.

"The barrels, by the dock," Sothis suggests. "They're always full of bait. Just dig through them."

He does as he's told, although truthfully, he would've done it regardless. Head shoved inside one of the barrels, he finds his prize, grabbing fistfuls of worms. When he wiggles himself out, Dimitri is standing there, staring at him. His eyes glance down to the worms in his professor's hands, then back up to his face, then another glance at the worms.

"Oh, sorry," Byleth says. He thrusts a handful of worms at Dimitri. "Did you need some?"

It has become very apparent to everyone that Byleth has no idea how to address those above him. Of course, as the students' technical superior, being their professor, he is allowed a certain amount of leeway. When it comes to manners, however, he has no common courtesy. A prince should be appalled by a commoner holding worms up to his face.

Yet, Dimitri cracks a smile. "I wasn't in need of worms, no, Professor. You can keep them."

Byleth shoves the worms into his coat pockets. Dimitri seems to be longing to make a comment on the action.

"Are you free? Wanna fish with me?"

"Fish?" That manages to catch Dimitri off guard. He flusters for a second, Byleth confused by the tint in his cheeks. "I, uh, have to admit, I'm not very good at fishing."

"I can show you how." Byleth is already walking towards the end of the dock, Dimitri hesitantly following in tow. "It'll be like a fishing seminar. Oh, I won't grade you, though. That wouldn't be fair."

He hands Dimitri his fishing rod. Nervous fingers grip it as gently as possible. Intently, Dimitri watches Byleth pull a worm out of his pocket (Dimitri also notices the trail of worms that fell from their confinement) and stab it onto the hook. Everything Byleth does is a bit...mortifying.

"Cast the line," Byleth says. Dimitri looks at him blankly. "Oh. I have to show you how."

Byleth stands behind Dimitri, chest pressed against the boy's back. That flustered feeling hits Dimitri again when his professor places his hands on top of Dimitri's, guiding him on where to place his hands on the pole.

"And then..." Together, they draw the pole back, then forward, launching the line into the lake. "Like that."

Byleth backs off of Dimitri, who relinquishes a heavy sigh. The pole hasn't snapped yet. He hasn't broken the line. Nothing has gone wrong, and there's nothing to worry about.

Then a tug on the line makes Dimitri shriek. "I got something--!"

"Not yet," Byleth says quickly. "Let it nibble a few times."

He obeys, waiting for Byleth's cue. The professor counts on his fingers; three...two...one...

Dimitri pulls back the rod with a mighty roar. The force of it is all too much, and the rod snaps clean in half, flying through the air, high into the sky. The fish on the other end twirls in the air majestically before gravity hurtles it towards them. Byleth jumps in front of Dimitri and catches the slippery creature in his hands, gripping its tail and head before it can fumble out of his grasp. 

It was like something out of an opera performance. Dimitri is stunned into silence, bewildered by what had just happened. A handful of students are clapping and whooping for them.

"You got one!" Byleth cheers, holding the fish out to Dimitri. The delighted smile on his professor's face is all too much, and the boy's heart thumps hard in his chest. He's smiling too, until he remembers the fate of the fishing pole.

"I'm so, so sorry, Professor, I'll be sure to buy you a new fishing pole--"

"Don't worry about it, you did amazing." Byleth is staring down at the violently wiggling fish in his hands. "Wanna go cook this thing? I'm hungry."

Dimitri watches as Byleth makes his way towards the dining hall. He's still looking down at the fish, however, and nearly walks right off the dock into the lake before Dimitri hurriedly grabs his sleeve and guides him in the right direction.

-

"Why do you think I'm joking?"

The bickering between Sylvain and Felix is reminiscent to that of an old married couple. Everyone covers their mouths and giggles each time an argument over something mundane comes up amongst the two.

"I'm not one of your playthings, Sylvain." Felix wipes a cloth against the hilt of his blade.

"That's exactly why I'm asking you! I'm being serious!"

"If you were being serious, you wouldn't harass me in front of everyone."

Annette taps her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe it's because he's serious that he asked you in front of all of us?"

"Or he's just trying to be more of a jerk than he already is," Ingrid says.

Sylvain grimaces. "Not helping."

"She's helping," Felix cuts in, "because she's right."

Sylvain stands behind him and wraps his arms around Felix's neck, earning a throaty growl from the shorter man, elbow jutting out, ready to strike at any moment.

"I'm being serious!" Sylvain says, voice pleading. "I really wanna dance with you at the ball. Really, truly, seriously. If you say no, I'll have to dance with Ingrid instead, and I think she'd step on my toes on purpose."

"What do you mean you'd _have_ to dance with me instead?" Ingrid snaps. "I'd rather dance with a porcupine."

"You're digging yourself into an even deeper grave, Sylvain," Mercedes chimes in. "Maybe this is something you should discuss in private."

"Such a rowdy bunch of students you've become attached to," Sothis hums.

Byleth sits at his desk, halfheartedly writing down plans for the next seminar as he listens to his lions (maybe cubs, to be more exact) talk amongst themselves. He supposes most teachers would tell them to quiet down and finish their homework, but with the annual ball coming up so soon, he can't be one to quell their excitement.

"Have you asked anyone out yet, Ashe? Dedue? Dimitri?" Mercedes smiles at the three boys being particularly quiet during the conversation.

A simple answer from Dedue: "No." Well, no one expected more from him, although his expression appears much softer than usual.

Ashe had been pretending to read the same book he's read ten times now until the conversation became pointed at him. With flushed cheeks, he closes the book, avoiding eye contact with the others. "Er, well, Caspar invited me to the ball with him, but I'm not sure if it means anything..."

"Aww! Ashe!" Annette nudges his shoulder.

Sylvain holds his head in his hands. "Even meek little Ashe got a date before I did..."

"Ask one of the dogs outside, I'm sure it'd be honored to dance with another of its own kind," Felix chides.

"Ouch, that hurt! So cold!" Sylvain is nuzzling his cheek against Felix's own. There's a grunt, then a shriek before Sylvain is suddenly on the ground.

Dimitri manages to wander up to Byleth's desk before he can be asked once again if he plans on dancing with anyone. Thankfully, the distraction of Sylvain smacking onto the cold hard floor takes all attention away from him.

"Oh, you have a visitor," Sothis says.

Byleth looks up; Dimitri sits at the edge of his desk, leggings crossed. He'd been looking at Byleth out of the corner of his eye until the professor caught him doing so. He looks away quickly, cheeks dusted a faint pink. There's a knowing giggle from Sothis inside Byleth's head, although the former doesn't understand what for.

"You don't want to join in on their conversation?" Byleth asks.

Dimitri uncrosses his legs at the question, letting his feet dangle above the floor. "It's not really my...kind of thing." He sounds notably bashful.

It makes Byleth's eyes soften. Dimitri never has been one for big group settings. The social interaction wears him out quickly, as it does the same for Byleth. Being in the middle of clusters of people gets...overwhelming, very fast.

Byleth closes his notebook. "I'm sure plenty of boys and girls have already asked you for a dance."

Dimitri whips his head towards Byleth. His eyes seem to hold some sort of anxious energy in them. "That's the problem, Professor. I've received so many invitations, and I've said yes to all of them, because as a prince, I feel it is my duty to appease everyone's wishes."

Byleth's lips tremble before a laugh tumbles out, and oh, Dimitri is frozen on the spot. Such a rare, heavenly sound makes his fingertips go numb. Dedue and Annette glance over at the two, and Byleth quickly hushes himself so as not to draw unwanted attention to Dimitri. Thoughtful, Dimitri notes, but disappointing that the laugh was cut short.

"Perseverance is key," Byleth says. "Hm. Think of it as a lesson. The more you dance with others, the more you'll learn to have...self discipline."

"Self discipline?" Dimitri repeats.

"With each dance, you'll realize you should have told them no. You will learn to be more willing to disappoint others."

It's Dimitri's turn to laugh now. He grabs a quill off of the desk, tapping Byleth's hand with it. "I don't really understand, Professor, but I'll take it to heart."

"Oh, Dimitri!" Mercedes waves a hand to the prince. "You never answered my question! Do you have a dance partner?"

The tip of the quill snaps between Dimitri's fingers. Well, Byleth wasn't completely fond of that quill, anyway.

"Alright, everyone, class dismissed," Byleth announces.

-

Exhausting. Byleth's eyes feel heavier than bricks. If he'd known the event would be of this caliber, he would've locked himself up in his room all night. Sothis would've buzzed in his head endlessly, of course, but he'd still maintain a fraction of sanity.

"Teach, did you not hear me?"

Claude looks at Byleth expectantly, and honestly, the man zoned out so hard that he almost forgot he'd been dancing with the Golden Deer house leader. His body moves much like a marionette, allowing the other boy to guide him as he pleases.

"I was a good boy and didn't spike the punch bowl," Claude tries again. It garners Byleth's attention now that he's actually listening. "Everyone would've known it was me, or at least assumed it was me. But you wanna know what I did do?"

"Oh, no, Claude," Byleth says weakly.

"Oh, yes, Claude!" Claude gracefully spins Byleth in a circle, then dips him low to the ground, bringing his lips to the professor's ear. "Don't eat the shrimp cocktails, 'kay?"

With that, Claude laughs and twirls away, moving on to his next dance partner. Before someone can latch onto Byleth, he shuffles off the dancefloor, gluing himself to the wall. A butler carrying a plate of shrimp cocktails passes by. With a grimace, Byleth watches as Lorenz takes about four from the plate and shares them with other students. Perhaps it's none of his business what happens to Lorenz's stomach later that night.

His eyes wander across the room. Mercedes and Annette giggle as they dance together; Caspar is doing a strange dance next to Ashe that Byleth has never seen before; Felix has his head snuggled in the crook of Sylvain's neck for a brief moment before the shorter boy decides public displays of affection are disgusting. Dedue seems to be wandering around, as if looking for someone, asking Ingrid for help. It hits Byleth then that while Edelgard and Claude have been present, he hasn't seen Dimitri for a while.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if Byleth slipped away for some air. It's hot and stifling, even in that big ballroom. As he creeps through the halls and makes his way outside, the cool air hitting his face makes him sigh in relief. There isn't another soul out here, much to his delight.

"Boooooring," Sothis reprimands him. "Is being so popular that draining to you? Is it such a burden? Ugh, get me out of your head so that I can also dance! I'm sure I've still got moves to spare!"

Byleth is ignoring her while she talks to herself. He makes his way towards the garden terrace, strings of lanterns lighting the way down the path. He isn't normally one to notice the pretty little details, but the decorative lighting makes the garden terrace even more lovely than usual. 

Not to mention that when he arrives there, the moon casts a light down on Dimitri, who is kneeling down in front of a patch of blue roses. The footsteps of Byleth startle him at first, until he turns around and realizes who is standing there.

"Professor?" Dimitri stands up and faces him, his expression notably softening. "Did you come to escape, too?"

Byleth can only nod sheepishly.

"I find it quite relaxing here. It's so peaceful and quiet. All of these flowers were grown in the greenhouse then transported here. Dedue and Ashe grew a fair number of these, I believe."

Dimitri kneels back down in front of the roses. Byleth walks over to him, kneeling beside him as well. He shoves his face into the bundle of roses, inhaling the scent, then sneezes as soon as he draws his head back.

"They smell good," Byleth notes, rubbing his nose. He plucks one from its stem, and before Dimitri can question what he's doing, he places the rose neatly in Dimitri's hair. "Cute."

Cute. Dimitri goes slack-jawed, staring desperately at his professor, unsure of what to say or do. His fingers delicately travel up to the rose in his hair. "I-I'm..." His cheeks burn, oh, do they burn. The casual demeanor of Byleth makes this all the more confusing and flustering for him.

"Did you dance with anyone?"

The question knocks Dimitri back to reality. Of course--he'd nearly forgotten that conversation they'd had the other day in the classroom about 'learning self discipline'. "Only...a few. I found myself becoming overwhelmed very quickly." The five people he danced with did, at least, make him wish he had never agreed to it. If all five of those people had been Byleth, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad...

Byleth stands up, reaching his hand down to Dimitri. "Dance with me."

Dimitri stares at Byleth's hand wordlessly.

"Did you not run away so you would not have to dance with anyone else?!" Sothis chimes in his head. "And now you are offering your hand to this boy?! I do not understand you one single bit."

Dimitri places his hand on top of Byleth's, who helps him rise to his feet. Dimitri tumbles forward awkwardly, chest pressing against his professor's as Byleth twines their fingers together. Dimitri can't help but wonder helplessly, _Is your heart pounding as hard as mine is, Professor?_

That's when Dimitri notices something. Byleth certainly did not bathe himself before this event, nor did he wash his clothes. Not that he has horrendous body odor, nothing of the sort; a smell akin to dirt is all Dimitri truly catches. His thoughts are cut short when Byleth starts leading him into the dance.

"I'm not particularly skilled at this," Dimitri throws in quickly. 

It's soon apparent that the prince isn't lying. Perhaps it's due to nerves, but he keeps fumbling and stepping down hard on Byleth's toes. An apology spills out of Dimitri's mouth each time. Byleth simply smiles at him, almost inviting Dimitri to keep making the same mistakes so as to see that divine smile spread across his professor's features once more.

Music from the ballroom can be faintly heard from where dance. Only a few short moments feels like a lifetime to Dimitri. For a rough, hardened mercenary, the prince had not expected Byleth to actually have any nuance on how to dance, and yet he does a much better job than himself. The professor's hand on his hip feels like hot coal, and he's sure his hand is sweaty from their hold on each other. Byleth's lips are...so close. Their faces are so close to each other, it's maddening.

"Professor," Dimitri speaks slowly, calculating his words. "I have somewhere I must be right now. But, I... I hope to see you soon."

Byleth tilts his head, but complies, breaking himself away from Dimitri. His blue lion's fingers linger on the palm of his hand before he turns abruptly and scampers away.

"What an odd boy that one is," Sothis decides. "I suppose you are just as odd, though. Where could he be running off to?"

Byleth has half a mind to retreat to his room and go to bed. Sothis, however, is nagging him about visiting the Goddess Tower. When two people meet at the Goddess Tower, it is said they will be together forever...or something like that. Byleth has only heard gossip and whispers of it from his students.

The trek there feels like mission impossible. The ball will soon be ending, so now students have left the main event and are waltzing around outside. Not wanting to be seen, Byleth darts and flits about like an assassin in the dark.

He really doesn't care for this sort of thing. Once he gets there, he's sure it will be empty, or worse, littered with couples hoping the legend of the place is true. He supposes the view from high upon the Goddess Tower could be worth the visit. Mostly, he's only doing this so that Sothis will stop calling him a layabout.

Well, Byleth hadn't expected to see Dimitri again so soon.

"Professor!" Dimitri faces him, flashing a toothy grin. "So we meet again. I was hoping you'd-- Er, I mean I was... That is, to see you here..."

"Are you meeting someone here?" Byleth asks, walking up to the other boy. He places his elbows down on an open window, resting his chin in his hands. "I'm not interrupting something?"

"Oh, no, heavens, no." Dimitri almost laughs at the prospect. Especially since, well, obvious to anyone but Byleth himself, that Dimitri had been hoping his professor would be the one to show up. He copies Byleth, peering out the window, side by side, shoulders squished together.

His eyes keep wandering to Byleth. He's good at being subtle about it, at least. The moon shines down on the two, bathing Byleth in a luminescent, beautiful light. His eyes look as if they're sparkling while he examines the expanse beneath them.

Dimitri's first crush is something he'd rather not think about, considering how...awkward it was, later discovering that, well, it had been his step-sister, of all people. Despite that, though, he's never had romantic interest in anyone else. Several boys and girls have shown their interest in him, of course, but it's nothing he's thought twice about.

But Byleth...

Why does this man make his heart race, and make his hands feel so clammy? A simple smile from his professor leaves him tongue-tied. He's never felt this enamored by another human being.

It's _torturous_.

"What do you think?"

Dimitri bites his tongue, shaking his head upon realizing Byleth had asked him something. He'd been staring at him stupidly, probably drooling, in such a daze that he hadn't even noticed his professor speaking to him. "S-sorry?"

"You know, the legends of this place." Oh. Dimitri's heart does that familiar ba-dump. "It's just us here, so are we going to be together forever?"

Dimitri can't tell if he's joking or being serious. The monotony of his voice can be so indescribably frustrating at times. "Together...forever," Dimitri repeats. He decides to be brave. "I wouldn't mind that, Professor, if it's with you."

Byleth flutters his eyelashes at the boy, a playful grin on his lips. Dimitri isn't sure what it's supposed to mean. 

"Oh, aren't we supposed to make a wish?" Dimitri quickly changes the subject. "It'll supposedly come true if we do it together."

"Hm." Byleth's gaze wanders to the blue rose still delicately decorating Dimitri's hair. "Maybe I'll wish for a marvelous feast to rain from the sky..."

Dimitri smiles fondly. His hand hesitantly hovers over Byleth's, until he finally gains enough courage to place it on top of his professor's. They both close their eyes and make their separate wishes.

-

The past few months have been hectic.

He still cries sometimes. Rhea dotes on him for moving on from his father's death so quickly, but she doesn't know that tears still burn his cheeks in the middle of the night when he can't sleep.

And now, he's lost the voice in his head. It feels empty, not having Sothis to reprimand him or make jokes. His hair and eyes are now a brilliant shade of green, although often times, he misses the previous blue shade. Jeralt always told him he took after his mother; it made him feel close to her, in a way.

Dimitri lays next to him in the grass while Byleth looks over his father's diary. He's read it at least a hundred times since the incident, but it makes him happy to reread it, catching little details each time that he never noticed before.

Byleth sits up. Wordlessly, he scavenges through the picnic basket Dimitri brought along with them. He pulls out a drumstick and ravenously sinks his teeth into it.

Dimitri watches in bewitched adoration. He's come to find that Byleth eats like, for lack of better phrasing, a _pig_. In the dining hall, he tries his hardest to eat like a gentleman, using a fork and knife. But when it comes to feasts, or it's simply only the two of them, the animal breaks free from its cage, shoveling away a meal as if he's never touched food in his life. When Byleth had invited him to a tea party for his birthday, the snacks the professor had prepared for him had mostly ended up in Byleth's own stomach.

"Do you ever wonder why things happen the way they do?"

The question catches Dimitri off guard. It isn't normally like his professor to go asking profound inquiries unannounced. He sits up, tilting his head at Byleth. "All the time," he answers simply. "Is something on your mind?"

Byleth frowns at him. He isn't prone to showing weakness. He's _strong_, everyone tells him. Don't get hung up on things you can't change. Stop crying over the past. Look to the future. Live in the present.

"It's nothing," Byleth says.

"I don't believe that," Dimitri interjects. He gulps. "Er, I apologize. I meant... You can talk to me about anything, Professor. I'm always willing to lend an ear." He wants to take Byleth's hand in his own. To brush his thumb along his palm.

Pulling his legs up, Byleth rests his chin on his knees. "I appreciate it." Dimitri can make out the faintest tone of melancholy in his voice. "It really is nothing though. I promise. I think I'm just hungry."

"You just ate that drumstick. Should I have packed more...?"

Dimitri has always been there for Byleth. For a prince to take such a shine to him, he will truly never understand it. In a way, he does _desperately_ wish he could open himself up more, the way Dimitri does with him. It isn't as though he doesn't trust Dimitri with his feelings. It's simply that Byleth doesn't understand his _own_ feelings. Emotions are still so new to him. Friendship and trust are practically foreign concepts, let alone the newly added anguish and sadness striking his core.

It hurts. Byleth knows this, at least. He's been feeling uncertain and in pain. Yet Dimitri is always there for him, as are his other cherished Blue Lions. They all care for him so deeply that it twists his chest in unfamiliar ways.

Byleth closes his eyes. His hand wanders to Dimitri's; a tender warmth that fills him with a sense of safety. Dimitri flushes at the action, but doesn't jerk away.

"I want to stay with you, Professor," Dimitri boldly claims. "I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again. I swear it."

The wind gently blows through their hair. Petals of blue roses fly past them. "Shouldn't I be saying that, as your professor?" Byleth smiles for the first time in what feels like months. Truly, it might be so. "Let's keep each other safe."

Perhaps promises are meant to be broken.


	2. post timeskip

Blood splatters through the air. Screams of agony echo endlessly. Children crying, begging for their parents to save them, chanting that they aren't ready to die. Heads rolling, guts littering the soiled ground, rotting carcasses, Byleth's limbs ripped from his body--

Dimitri stirs awake with a scream. He sits up, desperately trying to catch his breath. It was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was just a dream. As if he doesn't have nightmares like this every single night. One would think he would be used to this by now.

A knock at the door rattles him. Who could possibly be awake at this hour? Sylvain and Felix share rooms on either side of him, but the two are usually fast asleep before Dimitri even lays himself in bed. Surely they didn't hear him groaning from his nightmare and decide to check up on him.

He lifts himself out of bed, grabbing a short spear leaning against the wall. Someone with ill intentions probably wouldn't knock, but Dimitri can't take chances anymore.

Byleth is looking up at him when he swings the door open.

"Go away," Dimitri hisses.

He slams the door shut in Byleth's face, throwing his spear to the ground.

-

The guilt he feels is insurmountable. To see his former student become a shell of the man he once used to be; to not be there to protect him in what were clearly his darkest hours.

His gut tries telling him it's not his fault. He had no control over his body going into a deep five year sleep. "He forgives you," Ingrid would say in consolation. "He just needs time."

It is his fault, though. Not only has Dimitri had to endure something horrifically traumatizing, but along the way, Dedue sacrificed himself for his prince.

One of his students. One of his beloved, cherished students, killed. It feels like only yesterday that he and Dedue were sitting together in the greenhouse, picking tulips for a bouquet specially made for Annette's birthday.

He wants to throw up. To suddenly wake up to everything being so painfully _different_ is numbing. All he can remember clearly is Edelgard starting her revolt, and Dimitri going mad with unrelenting rage. He couldn't stop Dimitri from his rampage. He wasn't _there_.

Even after they had promised--

Byleth stares down at the meal in front of him. He's had no appetite since waking up several weeks ago. Ashe and Mercedes fuss over him like doting siblings, and the thought, at least, cheers Byleth up enough to choke down a few remnants of food. Not today, however.

He's noticed Dimitri never leaves his room unless it's for battle. Byleth has never seen him in the dining hall, and he doesn't even show up for war council meetings. The empty seats meant for the prince and Dedue always leave a stabbing ache in his chest. If he doesn't have a heartbeat, why does he still get these icy, chilling pains?

His meal goes untouched. He pushes the plate aside and rises from his seat, his body feeling about as heavy as a thousand bricks. His feet subconsciously guide him towards the cathedral. Yes, the cathedral--maybe that's what he needs. To pray and repent to the Goddess for messing with his life when he never asked for it in the first place.

Maybe he's being too sinister. He's never been one to get caught up in the details; going with the flow is just easier for him. Hanging up on things he can't change just isn't worth it. But oh, how frustrating it is, to not be in control of his own fate, to have to swim along with the tides of time's flow.

It's dark by the time Byleth finally arrives at the cathedral. All but one man have left the area, leaving the atmosphere feeling stagnant and cold.

Byleth isn't afraid, though. He has no reason to be. The guilt eating away at him doesn't change the fact that Dimitri is still Dimitri, no matter how different he may act. He is still the former house leader of Blue Lions, still the man that always stood by him through thick and thin, still the man he waltzed with at the ball, still the man that gave him a shoulder to cry on when all hope seemed lost.

His footsteps echo throughout the building as Byleth approaches the prince. He is unflinching, unmoving, as if he knows _exactly_ who is approaching him. Byleth stands beside the man, wordlessly closing his eyes and bringing his hands together in prayer.

Dimitri looks down at him through dishevelled hair. _What could you possibly have to pray for_, he wonders. _As if you haven't been dead for five years._

He grunts, annoyed. Byleth opens one eye and glances in Dimitri's direction. The former turns his head in the other direction, feigning disinterest.

"Do you pray here often?" Byleth asks.

He doesn't expect a response. Every day, he tries garnering a conversation out of the man, only to remain empty handed. His stubbornness will not be outmatched by Dimitri's own stubbornness, however.

He desperately wants to make up for lost time.

"Don't talk to me," Dimitri harshly spits out.

_Ah,_ Byleth mentally notes, _he spoke._

During their school days, Byleth had been the one to not be much for conversation. For the roles to suddenly be reversed... It only hardens his guilt. But he has to push that guilt aside for now, and be there for Dimitri, whether the prince wants his company or not.

Byleth hadn't noticed that Dimitri is glaring down at him. He supposes he should be afraid for his life, having this bloodthirsty demon staring at him like he's easy prey. Byleth stares right back at him, tilting his head, questioning.

"You've been following me around." Astute observation. "Leave. I don't want to see you near me again. Do you really think I won't strike you? Cut you down, like the hundreds of others that have met the same fate? You'd just be another body count. It would be easy."

Byleth doesn't falter. He looks away from Dimitri, towards the pile of rubble in front of them. The moon filters down from the broken ceiling is the only thing lighting up the room. It's a lonely feeling.

"You would never hurt me," Byleth finally declares.

_That_ pisses Dimitri off. He roughly grabs Byleth by the collar, glowering, baring his teeth like a mad dog.

Little to no reaction from Byleth. Just a blink.

Because he's right.

Dimitri shoves Byleth away like a ragdoll, turning around in a huff and storming out of the cathedral, leaving Byleth alone with the moon.

-

It's easier not to care.

If Dimitri doesn't care, then he won't have to suffer. Pushing people away means he won't have to grieve when they inevitably perish and leave him. He doesn't need anyone but himself. That's what these long, arduous five years have taught him. All that matters is getting vengeance.

_Steady stance. Legs apart._ With a roar, Dimitri thrusts the spear end of Areadbhar into the enemy charging him. _Pull it out quickly. They don't need to suffer._ He twists the lance mercilessly through the man's body, blood pouring out of him like a waterfall. He retracts his lance; more blood splatters out, spraying the prince's face like a canvas.

The man's lifeless body topples over. There isn't time to think about who he was, his name, his family, before another opponent comes running with a battle cry, sword pointed at Dimitri's throat.

It's all in vain. Why these lowly roaches think they could harm a future king--it's amusing. Low laughter spills from Dimitri's lips as another man is gutted by his hands. He's become delirious, soaked in blood, scanning the area for more, more, _more_ \--

A familiar scream stirs something awake inside of him. All he sees is a dagger being twisted into Byleth's back. The former professor sinks to his knees, seemingly paralyzed by shock, unable to catch a grip and retaliate.

The enemy general had snuck up on Byleth, hoping to kill him before their losses grew any larger.

_He doesn't care, he doesn't care, he doesn't care._ Dimitri's feet move on command, running at the commander full force, jutting his lance directly into the man's head. Byleth can only watch with wide eyes as bloodied brains topple to the ground. His vision is blurring. He feels cold, yet hot all at the same time. Someone is talking to him--a woman's voice. Mercedes? A healing spell is being performed on him. He thinks so anyway. Dimitri kneels in front of him... The dagger is pulled out of his back.

He blacks out.

.....

...

"Oh! You're up!"

Byleth feels like he has a hangover. He blinks his eyes open slowly; Manuela looks over him, a look of relief washing over her. He stirs, trying to sit up, but she quickly grabs his shoulders to keep him in place.

"No, no, no. Don't even think about moving from this spot." He'd never had a mother to scold him when he was bad, but he assumes this is what it'd sound like. "Your wound was deep, Professor. Your lucky to still be with us. It took forever to stop the bleeding."

Ah, Byleth sees that she isn't lying. There's a light trail of stained blood leading from the doorway to the medical bed he's currently laying on. Blood stains her dress as well, but she luckily doesn't appear to be _too_ angry about it.

Why doesn't he feel any pain, then, if the wound was so deep? His fingertips feel numb. She must have given him a heavy dose of pain relieving herbs for him to not be feeling anything at all.

"You called me professor," Byleth murmurs.

Manuela frowns skeptically. "Uh-huh... And?"

"I don't teach anymore. Why does everyone keep calling me professor?"

"Shouldn't you be asking me about how I saved your life, mister?"

She's joking, and he knows it, but he can't help but apologize. "I'm sorry. Thank you, Manuela."

There we go. She smiles at him now. "Well, it's just what we're used to, anyway. You've always been 'Professor' to us. Especially to the young ones. Would you rather we call you Byleth?"

Byleth isn't sure about that one. Being seen as a professor is definitely weird to him, but to hear his first name from the mouths of people that have never spoken it out loud before... Regardless of his occupation, he will surely always be _Professor_ to those he cares about.

Manuela walks over to a desk, picking up a stack of paperwork. "I've got some work I need to attend to, honey. Will you be alright if I step out for a bit?"

Byleth blinks. Of course he will be. He can't move from this spot, after all. "I'm going to rot here alone and die."

"Still as cheeky as ever, aren't we. Get some more rest, sweetie." Manuela grits her teeth, but smiles at him before she exits through the doorway.

Byleth uncomfortably shifts around. Oh, there's some pain. He winces and bites his lip to suppress a groan. Looks like Manuela might have been right about not moving from this spot. He should've asked how long he's been asleep for--how long ago was the previous battle?

_Is everyone okay?_ Anxiety tugs at him. Not knowing if his friends made it out alive leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He's always the first one to know of the casualties in battle.

He can barely recount what had happened. Everything moved too fast; one second he had been casting a fire spell on an enemy, then the next, he was on the ground. He _does_ remember a flash of blonde hair and black armor coming to his rescue before everything went dark.

Dimitri...

It couldn't have been him. Surely, he only imagined the prince coming to his rescue, because that's what he so desperately has been craving; any sense of humanity in his old best friend.

When the stinging pain finally subsides, Byleth closes his eyes once more. He can't worry about anything now, not when he needs to recuperate. If he isn't in top form, then he's only a liability on the battlefield, putting everyone's lives, as well as his own, in danger.

He lulls off into another deep sleep. Dimitri peers his head through the doorway briefly to make sure the older man is truly asleep. When he shows no signs of waking up, Dimitri steps inside the infirmary, leans against the wall, and silently watches him rest.

-

The joy felt throughout the monastery when Dedue returns was needed more than anything imaginable. A light seemed to have returned to Dimitri's eyes during their reunion, even if only for a second. The suffocating air has been replaced nearly instantaneously with a sunny outlook, all thanks to the man from Duscur.

"They're still here." Dedue crouches down in front of a patch of foreign flowers he had planted in the greenhouse nearly five years ago. "How is that possible? No one should have been around to water them."

Byleth and Ashe glance at each other. It's true; the plants certainly should have dried up and withered away by now.

"Maybe they were waiting for you to return," Ashe suggests. "The Goddess kept them alive all this time until you were here to take care of them."

Dedue smiles at that. It makes Byleth smile, too, and he crouches down next to Dedue and examines the flowers. They must be native to Duscur; he's never seen plant life like this anywhere around Fodlan.

After watering all the plants, Dedue and Ashe take their leave of the greenhouse. Byleth slowly trails behind them, having gotten distracted by a caterpillar chewing on a leaf.

Dimitri stands outside the greenhouse. It startles Byleth, like seeing a ghost. He hadn't seen Dimitri leave his quarters other than to stand around the cathedral.

His eyes follow Dimitri's very intent gaze. The prince watches as Dedue and Ashe walk together, up the stairs, to the dining hall. He must have been in hiding until they were out of sight, for Dedue to not have stopped and talked to him.

"Want to join them?" Byleth asks, fleetingly.

He isn't immediately denied.

"I thought...he was a ghost," Dimitri says suddenly. "I couldn't believe he was actually alive when I saw him. Not until we came back to the monastery. I thought...he came to haunt me, for dying in my place..."

Byleth frowns. "You thought I was a ghost, too."

Dimitri looks at Byleth for a split second before looking to the clouds in the sky. "I am undeserving. I do not understand why the Goddess mocks me so."

"You deserve more than you realize."

Byleth slowly reaches a hand out towards Dimitri. He lays his palm flat against the armor of Dimitri's chest. The prince visibly flinches; he bats Byleth's hand off, backs away, and hastily walks off in the opposite direction.

It's all becoming a little overwhelming for Dimitri. No matter how hard he tries pushing Byleth away, he keeps _fucking_ getting closer to him. It's like having a blood sucking leech sewn onto his body.

He doesn't want these feelings to resurface. He couldn't bear it if something happened to Byleth, if he died, left him behind, like everyone else he ever cared for, everyone else he loved--

Footsteps are following him. The sound is deafening. Usually Byleth won't come after him once he brushes him off. Dimitri's first instinct is to be angered by the persistence of his former professor. Maybe it has something to do with Dedue returning, though--he allows the man to follow him all the way the second floor of the dorms, to his room.

Byleth hadn't expected to get this far, to say the least. He expected to have the door slammed shut in his face. To be standing here, in Dimitri's room, with the prince looming over him, is...

Yeah, he really needs to steel his nerves.

"What do you want?" Dimitri's voice cuts like a lethal poison. "Why do you _insist_ on following me?"

Something about the comment makes Byleth reflect on how in the past, it used to be Dimitri following him around. In an endearing way, of course, almost like an ever loyal puppy, always keeping a watchful eye on the man he revered and admired.

The same man, now barking cold words at him.

"I'm worried about you," Byleth speaks truthfully.

Dimitri scoffs. He should throw Byleth out of his room right now. He should scream at him, tell him to get out of his sight, _leave, leave, leave_.

"This is who I am now," is all Dimitri can muster to say. "I don't need your pity."

He turns around, back facing Byleth. There's an ache in both of their chests, though neither will admit it to one another.

Byleth should leave. There's no point in pressing the issue once Dimitri decides he's had enough.

Yet, instead, he takes a small step forward.

Dimitri's room used to be so meticulously tidy that Byleth was sure not a single speck of dust existed in its space. Now, there's crumpled papers littering the floor, plates stacked against the windowsill, clothes thrown astray here and there. One thing in particular stands out to Byleth; a blue rose, on Dimitri's desk. It appears to have been painted in a protective resin to preserve it.

Something tugs in his chest. He wishes he had a heartbeat sometimes. He wonders if the sight of that familiar rose would make his heart burst out of chest. If he'd leap forward and bring Dimitri into his arms due to the emotions taking over him.

Then he realizes, regardless of having a functioning heart or not, he's still feeling the same type of way that his mind wants him to feel. He can dictate his own lack of emotions.

Dimitri jerks violently when a pair of arms wrap around his waist. An animalistic instinct tells him to fight, to wriggle free and run. He stands there instead in silence, allowing the shorter man to embrace him. Perhaps this is a selfish indulgence.

"Leave," Dimitri finally says. "...Please, leave."

Byleth knows better than to disobey. He draws back, arms to his sides, and quietly leaves the room without a word, closing the door behind him.

Clenching his fists, Dimitri lets out a harsh cry, violently pushing the stack of plates on the windowsill to the floor, clutching his head as they loudly shatter into bits and pieces.

-

Rodrigue's funeral isn't nearly as grand as they all wish it could've been. Gilbert serves as the speaker, holding his head low as he says kind words in remembrance of the man everyone respected so much.

Rain starts falling from the sky, as if the Goddess begins to weep as well.

Byleth thinks to say something to Felix, but he knows it wouldn't make him feel any better. If anything, it'd only serve to piss him off and cause him to lash out. Too many bottled up emotions would explode out of him all at once. Certainly, they can all relate to that.

Everyone save for him, Felix, Sylvain, and Dimitri have made their peace and left.

Felix hasn't shed a single tear since it happened. Sylvain stands next to him silently, a comforting arm around his shoulders. He won't leave Felix's side for the next few weeks; Byleth is sure of it.

Byleth and Dimitri stand side by side, staring at the sword plunged into the ground above the grave. Dimitri clutches Byleth's hand like its his only lifeline. He may not be feeling the exact same whirlwind of emotions going on inside of Felix right now, but the pain is all but the same. That was practically his second father, after all.

He's changed, Byleth noticed. Not immediately, but the loss of Rodrigue flipped a switch in Dimitri's brain that had been shut off for a long time.

_Your hands are so warm... Have they always been?_

Byleth grips Dimitri's hand tighter. Dimitri mimics the action, sighing to himself as he looks down at the other man. His eye softens as Byleth looks up to him with a forced smile, all for him, only for him.

Felix and Sylvain don't appear to be leaving any time soon, but the rain is taking its toll on Dimitri and Byleth. The two murmur quiet condolences to Felix before leaving flowers atop the grave and departing.

They make their way to the dining hall. Dedue and Ashe are in the kitchen making a feast for the group, hoping to lift everyone's spirits with some good food. Neither Byleth nor Dimitri even have a semblance of an appetite, but they know they need food in their stomachs.

They sit together at an open table, both sighing as their butts hit the chairs. The weight of the world crashed down upon them both at once. Annette strides over to them, carefully setting down two plates of food in front of them. Her nose is bright red, eyes bloodshot; she puts on a brave smile for the pair in front of her.

"Eat up, boys! We need the strength, right?" Her voice cracks, but the two pretend not to notice. She gives an especially pointed smile to Dimitri. "It's nice to see you out of your quarters, Dimitri."

She turns and leaves, heading off into the kitchen to retrieve more food for other soldiers. Dimitri watches her, then looks down at the plate of food. His meal is slightly different than Byleth's plate--everything on it is coated in at least five different layers of cheese. He smiles fondly. Dedue must have prepared this plate especially for him.

Byleth tears at the skin of the chicken breast with his fingers, dangling it in the air before dropping it into his mouth. He sucks on his greasy fingers before ripping into the meat of the bird and sliding it down his throat. Dimitri ignores the silverware beside his plate and shovels a slab of ham into his maw, gravy and cheddar cheese dribbling down his chin and arm.

Passing by, Gilbert clears his throat, narrowing his eyes at the two. He lifts two forks, hands them to the two men, then carries on his way once they sheepishly take the forks from him.

For having no appetites, they still eat like ravenous wild animals. They look at each other and manage to laugh whole heartedly for the first time in months.

-

Byleth wakes up next to Dimitri. He doesn't remember how he got in his bed, or when he even fell asleep. Normally he wakes up groggy, but the sight of the prince soundly sleeping next to him soothes his soul.

He traces his fingers over the scar on Dimitri's eye. He's never seen him before without the eyepatch on. It's not as gruesome as Byleth had expected. His mind wanders, wondering when and how he got this scar, and how he managed to treat it on his own without facing infection.

He can't think about that. It makes a lump form in his throat.

Sunlight filters in through the window, and Dimitri begins to stir awake. Byleth's hand is still on Dimitri's scar when the man slowly opens his one good eye. He faces Byleth, a serene expression sugarcoating his masculine features. He brings a hand up and sets it on top of Byleth's hand.

"Good morning," the prince croaks, voice hoarse.

"Good morning," Byleth responds. "Did I fall asleep here?"

Dimitri now holds Byleth's hand in both of his own, brushing his thumbs against the skin. "I found you asleep in the library. My room was closer than yours, so I just... brought you here."

They lay there for a while, soaking up each other's presence. The silence between them isn't uncomfortable; it's a kind of serene peacefulness that the two long for.

The way Jeralt talked about his mother in his diary comes to mind as Byleth gazes at the prince, who keeps closing his eye, failing at fighting off his lingering sleepiness. Jeralt talked about his wife like she was a Goddess, so desperately smitten with her. The ooey-gooey words he would describe her with don't seem so revolting anymore.

Byleth might be in love, he decides. He doesn't know what to do with this newfound information. Dimitri dozing back asleep, hands in his, brings a flush to his cheeks that he isn't accustomed to.

"Dimitri."

Dimitri's eye flutters open.

"It's your birthday today, isn't it?"

Oh. How could the prince have forgotten his own birthday? It's only fair, he supposes--he hasn't celebrated it in five years. He laughs, squeezing Byleth's hand. "So it is," he says.

It takes them a moment still to rise out of bed. Byleth hadn't noticed until he was out of bed that Dimitri had laid his cape on top of Byleth as an extra blanket. He flushes again. Warm cheeks are an unusual, new feeling, but not unwelcome.

Dimitri decides against wearing his armor for the day. He settles on a button up, white long sleeve blouse, and a pair of form fitting black pants. Byleth unceremoniously stares at him while he turns his back to dresses himself; scars litter nearly every inch of his body.

Byleth doesn't own much in the way of casual clothing. Dimitri follows him to his room so he can change. Well, a black turtleneck and some faded pants will have to do. Dimitri whistles, pretending he isn't intently staring at Byleth's slender figure. Out of respect, he _does_ look away when Byleth slips off his handmade chest binder and puts a different one on.

Dimitri knows, but it isn't something they've ever really talked about. He doesn't want to be invasive, and Byleth doesn't bring it up, so it's just an...in the air sort of thing. Byleth feels comfortable enough to undress in front of Dimitri despite it, and that's all Dimitri can ask for.

They make their way to the marketplace first. Byleth wishes things hadn't been so hectic as of late; he would've crafted something personal from scratch as a present for Dimitri. Instead, he settles on trying to sneakily buy little knickknacks for the king.

"Look." Byleth tugs on Dimitri's sleeve. He's holding a porcelain lion in his hands, and holds it up to Dimitri. "It's you."

Dimitri takes it with a smile. "Me, you say? I'm quite cute, then."

"You are."

Dimitri grips the lion too hard and it cracks in his hands. They both stare down at the crumbled bits of lion remains in his hands. Dimitri looks like an injured puppy, swatted with a newspaper for doing something naughty.

"I'm gonna need a new lion," Byleth says to the clerk.

Byleth drags Dimitri to the greenhouse next. He shows him the blue roses he's been growing with sparkling, excited eyes. Dimitri looks at him with all the adoration in the world. He's never been good with plants; his hands tend to break anything he so much as touches. Hearing Byleth be so passionate about something warms his heart, though.

Dimitri plucks a blue rose from the soil, tucks a strand of green hair behind Byleth's ear, and delicately decorates Byleth with the flower.

"Ah." Byleth had been droning on about the meticulous care needed to keep the roses alive, but suddenly, he lost his train of thought. His cheeks are doing the warm thing again.

They don't know how long they've been in the greenhouse for, but it's snowing heavily when they walk out. Byleth throws his head back and open his mouth, tongue out, catching the snowflakes. Dimitri's eye crinkles as he laughs and mimics the action.

After a birthday celebration in the dining hall, Dimitri is noticeably exhausted. He was this way after his coronation, as well, except _much_ worse; the king had instantly passed out the moment his head hit a pillow. Social interaction and good food takes a lot out of a man.

They retire to Byleth's room. The former professor brews chamomile tea for the two of them. Dimitri sits at the foot of the bed, kicking his boots off and setting them to the side. Byleth hands a teacup to Dimitri then sits beside him, sighing and laying his head on the taller man's shoulder.

It feels like pure bliss, being alone together like this.

"Did you have a good birthday?" Byleth asks.

Dimitri cards his free hand through Byleth's hair. _Gods, what are we?_ Dimitri asks himself. Realistically, a king and his tactician is what they are. Good friends, is what Dimitri would tell anyone. Do good friends snuggle this close together, and pet each other's hair, and sleep together, and hold hands...

"It's been wonderful," Dimitri responds. "Thank you so much for spending the day with me. It's hard to believe I haven't celebrated a birthday in five years."

Byleth makes a sound of content. He nuzzles into Dimitri's hand like a cat demanding more attention. Dimitri closes his eyes and sips the tea-- Augh, still too warm. The tip of his tongue burns from the aftermath. Even if he can't taste it, Dimitri appreciates Byleth going out of his way to select the tea that once used to be his favorite.

If this moment could last forever, Dimitri would ask of nothing else in his life. Does he deserve to be this happy, he wonders? To have the man he's been desperately pining after for five years leaning warmly against his shoulder? To have rejected these feelings, only for them to come rushing back just as quickly... If Byleth feels the same way about him, it would almost be too much. Surely, his heart would burst from happiness.

Dimitri sets his tea down on the desk. He rises to his feet and stretches his hand down to Byleth, who blinks up at him quizzically.

"I have a selfish birthday wish." Dimitri bows to the other man, hair falling over his face. "Please dance with me."

Byleth takes Dimitri's hand with no hesitation, and allows the taller man to pull him to his feet. Dimitri holds him close, chests pressed together; a strong hand grips Byleth's waist. They link their fingers together and slowly waltz around the bedroom.

"Remember how we danced together after the ball?" Dimitri asks his partner.

"You kept stepping on my toes," Byleth chides.

Dimitri laughs. He's _very_ careful not to step on Byleth's feet this time around. "I was inexperienced! I'm better now, Professor."

_Professor_. It doesn't feel right ringing against Byleth's ears. Not in this moment, in the candlelit room, with their bodies pressed so close together.

"Will you call me Byleth?"

"Byleth," Dimitri experiments it on his tongue. "Mm, I suppose you aren't our professor anymore. How childish of me to continue calling you that."

"I put a blue rose in your hair, before we danced together," Byleth says. "Is that why you put one in my hair? Or is it a snack for later?"

Why is he so _weird_? Dimitri can't stop himself from laughing. "I'm glad you remembered. I still... Ahem, I still have that rose. After that night, I had Mercedes help me coat it in a preservative." His heart pounds at the shameless confession.

"Why?" It's a moot question. They both know the answer, in their hearts.

Dimitri closes his eyes. He sways his body in tune with Byleth's, moving his hand up from his waist to his back. He grazes his fingers against his back, gently rubbing it, the action sending shivers down Byleth's spine.

"Don't you already know?" Dimitri's voice is soft, yet thick as honey.

Byleth stops dancing. His head feels a little fuzzy as he stares up at Dimitri, his eyes pleading. He's patient man according to most, but he's waited long enough.

"I think I love you," Byleth says. "I think I might be in love with you."

Dimitri cups Byleth's face in his hands and pulls him into a chaste kiss. It immediately takes Byleth's breath away, and he makes a garbled noise into the king's mouth. Dimitri pulls away with a sheepish laugh and--oh, what a sweet sound that is to Byleth's ears.

"I've never kissed anyone," Byleth says quickly. "I didn't know what to do. I panicked a little."

Dimitri presses his forehead against Byleth's, still trying to quell his laughter. "I... Ahaha, ahahahaha! Hahahaha! Oh, Byleth, you are too much for me sometimes."

Byleth takes the initiative this time, kissing Dimitri first. It's a mess of spit and teeth and tongue, neither with an inkling of what they're doing. They don't know how long a kiss usually lasts for. Byleth doesn't want to pull away, though. The warm feeling pooling in his stomach is a bizarre sensation.

Dimitri finally pulls away for air. Byleth's lips shining with his spit is a mesmerizing sight. "I'm so happy," Dimitri whispers. "I didn't know I was allowed to feel so happy. I love you."

-

The day before their final battle, the two decide to try something they've never done before. Byleth had referred to it as a sort of morale boosting activity. It would certainly be that, if either of them had any idea what they were doing--

Everyone is going to notice the marks littering Byleth's neck. Maybe he'll just have to wear a turtleneck into the last battle. Dimitri's teeth nip and lash at the sensitive skin, and Byleth _moans_, rutting his hips up against Dimitri's.

Dimitri's hands fumble with the buttons of Byleth's blouse (_Dimitri's_ blouse, to be exact). Byleth bats his hand away, though, frowning when Dimitri stops to look at him.

"Leave it on," Byleth pleads.

With no argument, Dimitri understands, and moves to unbutton Byleth's pants instead. He silently waits for approval that it's alright, and when Byleth nods, Dimitri slides them off Byleth's legs in one swoop. The strength of this man alone is enough to turn Byleth on.

"You're so wet," Dimitri says all too bluntly.

"Is that bad? Aren't I supposed to be?" Byleth sounds dumbfounded, yet genuinely unsure.

Dimitri chuckles, absolutely lovestruck. He presses his fingers against the wetness of Byleth's ungarments, hard against his clit, and oh, shit--

"Oh, _shit_," Byleth curses.

"I've never heard you so vocal," Dimitri says, in between soft laughter. "Did that feel good?"

"Yes," Byleth says immediately. He lifts his hips so he can slide the undergarments down his legs, suddenly growing impatient. "Take your pants off."

Byleth suddenly takes the command, but Dimitri isn't complaining. He lifts himself up off the bed, unbuttons his pants, and kicks them off like his life depends on it.

Byleth's fingers have absentmindedly made their way to his pussy, fingers prodding at his hole. His eyes are squeezed shut from the euphoria rushing through his body. He's caught off guard when Dimitri crawls back onto the bed and pushes Byleth onto his back, immediately ravishing his lover with his rough, calloused hands.

When Byleth reopens his eyes and sees Dimitri's _huge_ cock pressed against his thigh, he makes a jarbled sound of shock.

"You're... Nn, you're huge?!"

Dimitri's teeth find his way to Byleth's neck once more, where he sucks down hard on the delicate skin. He turns his head into the pillow and muffles another laugh. Byleth is making it _really_ hard to feign sexiness with these adorable comments.

"You can touch it," Dimitri says hotly against his neck.

Byleth shudders underneath him as one large hand plays with his pussy. He really is wet, embarrassingly so; the shlick noises coming from down there make his head dizzy. One finger steadily slides into the hole, while Dimitri uses his thumb to massage at the clit.

"H-ho-holy sh-shit," Byleth whines against Dimitri's hair, desperate, hands looking for something to grasp onto--

He hadn't expected to come _that_ fast. His breath hitches after a cry of Dimitri's name leaves his lips, trying to catch his breath after what had just happened. When Dimitri retracts his finger, it leaves an empty feeling inside of Byleth.

Byleth sits up, hair a ruffled mess. He sees stars in his vision as he blinks helplessly at Dimitri. He feels slightly embarrassed until Dimitri kisses him gently, cupping his cheek with his soiled hand.

Oh. Dimitri still hasn't found relief yet. Byleth lays flat on his stomach, in front of Dimitri's miserably aching cock.

"You don't have to--"

Byleth takes the head of Dimitri's cock into his mouth, and a disgraceful moan slips out of Dimitri's mouth. His hands instinctively grip Byleth's hair, and he tugs harder than intended, but it doesn't stop Byleth.

His cock really is huge. Obviously, Byleth the virgin has never had experience with dicks, but he'd seen his classmates genitalia in the bathing area before. He hadn't considered what constitutes as a huge cock until this sucker was in his mouth.

He can only get about half of it down his throat before he chokes a little.

"Byleth--"

Byleth lifts a finger to shush him. He doesn't want to hear words of concern; he wants to hear his lover moaning his name over and over again. Byleth lifts his mouth off Dimitri's cock with a wet pop, then runs his tongue along the length of it. He has no precision in this. He's slurping at it as if its a popsicle on a hot day.

But it feels _good_, and it's _Byleth_, so Dimitri can't stop himself from throwing his head back and groaning. It pleases Byleth, so he urges on. For a split second, Byleth considers how that cock would feel deep inside him, ravaging him, filling him to the brim--

Actually, no. That can wait. Byleth can hardly get this thing inside of his mouth without any trouble. He slides two fingers inside of himself instead, fucking himself while he tries getting this monster cock down his throat.

Dimitri is close, and Byleth has barely even done anything. Just the simple fact that it's Byleth has his legs trembling from ecstacy. Byleth gets half the cock in his mouth, works tongue around the head, then hollows his cheeks, nimbly bobbing his head.

Then he's gone. Dimitri cries out a warning before he comes, and Byleth barely has time to back off before the king's load splatters all over Byleth's face.

"I'm so sorry," Dimitri apologizes quickly, waving his hands in front of him, unsure of what to do. "Let me-- Let me get you a towel--"

Cum drips down Byleth's chin. He swipes some off his cheek with a finger, then licks at it.

"Salty..." he observes.

Dimitri covers his face with his hands.

-

Mercedes and Annette ended up being excellent wedding planners. Dimitri had admittedly been afraid of letting Annette do the decorating, but she managed to only break one vase and trip over three tables. She decorated the entire interior with blue roses without telling the two prior, and Dimitri couldn't stop sobbing for at least a full five minutes upon seeing it.

Then he cried during his vows. To say he was an emotional basket case that day would be putting it lightly. When they danced together, blue roses adorning their hair, Dimitri started sniffling, and Byleth finally let his walls down and started crying with him.

Felix got sick of it and knocked Dimitri over the head. "You're supposed to be happy!" he'd said. "Stop fucking crying!"

"These are happy tears!" Dimitri had said in response. He started crying again. Sylvain had to grab Felix by the shoulders and drag him away from the pitiable prince, murmuring something about how the king can cry as much as he wants on his special day.

They stand together on the patio outside of Dimitri's room, still in their tuxedos. Neither of them want to take their clothes off and let the happiness of this night come to an end. The moonlight bounces off their wedding rings.

Dimitri kisses the top of Byleth's head, wrapping an arm around his waist and bringing his husband closer to him.

"What did you wish for on that night we were at the Goddess Tower together?" Byleth asks suddenly.

It catches Dimitri off guard, and he takes a minute to respond. Of course he hadn't forgotten about it, but the memory resurfacing is a little embarrassing.

"I wished that we'd be together forever," Dimitri admits. "I...suppose I've always been in love with you, ever since we met."

"Aww..." Byleth lets out a childish giggle. "You've had a crush on me for that long?"

Dimitri groans. "My beloved, _please_, we're married now."

Byleth nuzzles his cheek into his husband's chest. "I wished that you'd pass your Lord class exam. I knew you were worried about it."

Dimitri lowers his head and laughs. The truth of their wildly different wishes would be gut-wrenching, were they not happily married now.

"I passed it, didn't I?" Dimitri says proudly.

"See! So it wasn't in vain."

Dimitri lifts Byleth's chin up and kisses him, slow and sweet, taking his warm, loving hands into his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOUUU FOR READING I HOPE YOU LOVED READING IT AS MUCH AS I LOVED WRITING IT!!!! <3


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